


A Hundred Degrees

by Lizzysreddington



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Slow-ish burn, Some Whump, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-08-28 02:47:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8428471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizzysreddington/pseuds/Lizzysreddington
Summary: The virus spread quickly, uncontrollably, infecting most of the world’s population. Those who were healthy fled the cities, leaving them for the infected to inhabit. Raymond Reddington had lost it all. He now takes one day at a time, he survives. Until one day, she gave him a reason to live.





	1. The Virus

       

 _“I want you here. I don’t care if it’s a hundred degrees and every blade of grass dies. Without you, none of that matters to me.”_ \- Kami Garcia

 

She waited for the full moon to take action. The dangers of the forest were a mystery to her, the more illumination the better. It was a clear night. The stars were twinkling and the moon in all of her glory, looked down on her, covering her in a blanket of light. It was the motivation she needed.

She knew that she was headed for the east coast. She longed for the ocean. She needed to see for herself that the earth was still turning. That she wasn’t trapped in this never-ending forest.

No, she needed to surround herself with the salty sea air, to see the peaceful waves swell then crash to shore. To gaze upon the horizon and watch the sun melt into the water.

She couldn’t wait to kick off her muddy boots and dig her toes in the sand. Anything would be better than this. It had to be.

It had been years since it all began. She wasn’t quite sure how many, at least three,  _she was pretty sure._  

The first few months were chaotic. Everyone ran to the grocery stores, hogged the gas pumps, and looted the electronic stores.

She remembered watching the events unfold on the television. She would group chat with her friends, sipping ice cold water, while sitting on her big comfy sofa.

They’d criticize the news anchors attire, and complain when another of their favorite stores were ransacked. It had become a nightly routine.

She took so much for granted, they all had.

For those who lost their livelihood it was hell. For everyone else it became table talk, a ritual. Turn on the television at six o’clock and listen to the list of businesses that ceased to exist. 

It was easy to stay away from the madness, until stores became barren, and people lost their jobs.

It affected everyone.

Then the raiders started stealing from less guarded homes and the elderly. When the selfishness of mankind destroyed and depleted nearly everything, it turned violent,  _really violent_ , making it unsafe to own anything worth having.

It was ironic. The so called ‘zombies’ didn’t even pose a real threat until homes were destroyed. Then there was nothing to keep the dead from attacking, and consuming the living.

The virus spread like wild fire after that. The cities became unsafe, and soon the zombies outnumbered the living.

The survivors that were healthy took what was left of their possessions and made their way into nature.

Factions were formed and territories were claimed. It was just how the movies predicted.

It is an amazing thing, the human will to survive. Some would run until they’d collapsed from fatigue, while others would kill any person or thing that crossed their path. Fight or flight. She had written so many papers on the subject. It was strange to see all that she had studied become relevant in such a sickening way.

It was truly a nightmare.

\---

The conflict that arose with leaving was, she has never killed before, the dead or the living. The closest she came was the first time her husband had left her alone. They had just escaped the highway and entered a heavily wooded area. They ran out of gas trying to make it to Nebraska, the place of her childhood home. They fought for hours about it. She finally convinced him that the country would be better, less population, more natural resources; which apparently, made running out of gas her fault.

They made it a ways before he signaled for her to stop. She leaned on a tree, with her pocket knife, and waited for him to clear the way ahead. He had convinced her that he could move quicker without her and that her inexperience could get them both killed, so she stayed behind, albeit reluctantly.

It couldn’t have been more than four or five minutes, how it snuck up behind her she still doesn’t know. But the next thing she knew a zombie was trying to bite her shoulder. She jabbed her knife at the creature with amazing reaction time, and the blade went right in the center of its chest, but was completely ineffective.

The zombie continued to bite at her. She twisted out of its surprisingly firm grasp and rolled to the ground. She got to her feet and began to run. It followed at a walking pace.

The urge to yell for Tom was intense, but she knew that they were attracted to sound. Any noise too loud and every zombie within miles would be searching for her.

She heard a gut-churning splat that caused her to halt and look back. Her husband had hacked the thing in the head with his axe.

He shook his head “babe, you should know by now that the only way to kill them is to destroy the brain”.

He pulled the axe free and attempted to wipe the blood on a nearby tree. “From now on you stick with me, Liz. Don’t leave my side. You can’t handle them on your own”. He grabbed her hand and started walking, pulling harder than necessary.

Looking back on it that was probably the first warning sign that her husband was, changing.

Tom had been a teacher. He loved children and wanted a large family. He volunteered all the time at PTA meetings and other after school activities. All of her friends loved him. She had loved him.

She wanted a child with him but something had always got in the way. At first it was his continued education, then hers. Then it was her father, Sam’s illness. He was extremely sick for six months until he lost his battle with cancer.

It was just never the right time for her to become a mother.

Now, in this new world, she couldn’t imagine ever having a child with Tom. The thought of creating a life with him was nauseating.

In fact she would be fearful to have a child at all. Without doctors and limited medicine it seemed almost foolish, almost.

Recently she had witnessed a woman in the group nearly die during childbirth. Now Karen had a beautiful baby boy named Glenn. Liz admired the hell out of her. To go though  _that_  in these times was such a big _fuck you_ to the new world. Just because life was very different, it didn’t mean it was over.

It was important to not let the virus win. Life would continue. Humanity would endure.

\---

At the start of the apocalypse Tom was brave and strong. He knew how to survive. She felt safe with him, she trusted him. Other survivors noticed and were drawn to his power. They either challenged him, or they followed him.

Most followed.

He became ruthless, drunk with power, taking what he wanted no matter the cost.

When the group started expanding, he began to call her his Queen. It sounded like a term of endearment, but she knew better. He had claimed her. The legality of marriage meant nothing anymore. He had to label her, and in doing so label himself. If she was his Queen, then that would make him a King.

It was also a warning to the others.

It was no coincidence that this had happened after a younger man in the group had smiled at her. He couldn’t have been more than eighteen, a boy really. Tom had witnessed it. She was sure of it. She hadn’t seen the boy since.

She asked around, but they all had the same story ‘he must have grown tired of the group’ or ‘you know young men can’t sit still’. She might have believed it, but they all phrased it in almost the same way.

She grew afraid to socialize with anyone but Tom. She was too worried that someone might get hurt by just being friendly to her. She felt trapped.

She spent most of her time waiting in her and Tom’s private shelter, alone.

The past few days he had even brought her meals to her, preventing her from venturing to the campfire. Tom seemed to like the idea of forcing her to live in complete seclusion.

She was his and his alone.

The members of the group that Tom had deemed strong went on weekly runs. Sometimes they’d bring back food and/or supplies, but they’d always come back covered in blood. She suspected that most of the liquid was in fact from the dead, but didn’t doubt that at least some of it was from the living.

This hunch was confirmed when she overheard some of the newer members talking about their recent outing. Tom had killed a family of five for a half eaten can of beans. The very beans that she had just gratefully ate.

Her breath quickened as her world began to spin. She ran a little ways, stumbled over her feet a few times, and then violently emptied her stomach. Dry heaving until she had nothing left.

That poor family had now died for nothing. She cried herself to sleep that night.

That had been the final push she needed.

If that wasn’t enough, Tom had started talking about a family again. She knew it was a matter of time before he stopped taking 'no' for an answer. There was no way she was going to be forced into that life.

No, she’d take her chances out there.

The zombies didn’t scare her much these days.

\---

Currently, she was gazing up at the moon through a large gap in the roof.

His snore was especially annoying tonight, and his sweaty palm was burning her forearm.

She looked at him one last time. His face was turned to her, eyes closed, mouth slightly ajar. He had a beard and his hair was slicked back, longer than ever, just above his shoulders. The scarred side of his face was showing. It was deep, and branched from his right brow all the way to his jaw. She was amazed that it hadn't damaged his vision.

His left arm wasn't so fortunate. He couldn’t fully make a fist and sometimes, on cold nights, it would cramp up.

He was almost unrecognizable.

He wouldn’t tell her exactly what happened that night, but she was sure that she was better off not knowing.

Yes, tonight was perfect. She slowly lifted his arm and slid out from his touch. It didn’t disturb him. The snoring continued without interruption.

She packed lightly; three protein bars from his emergency stash, a pocket knife, and a canteen full of water. She didn’t want to be weighed down. She needed to be able to run.

She pinned her hair back, tied her boots, and buttoned up her jacket. She placed her wedding ring on her pillow and put on her black leather gloves. It was a dramatic gesture, but she refused to keep it. She grabbed her bag and slowly backed out of the makeshift shelter.

There was chill in the air, winter was quickly approaching. She hoped that she’d be able to avoid the unforgiving cold, but highly doubted she would.

Really she regretted not leaving sooner, but it was a matter of her survival. She had food, water, shelter, everything that she needed.

In staying she learned a valuable lesson; there was an enormous difference between surviving and living.

The security was normally pretty tight. Luckily on this particular night, they had come back with their bags full of alcohol. The strong stuff, lots of it. They drank and drank until there was none left.

As unwise as it seemed for the whole group to be inebriated during a zombie apocalypse, it worked to her advantage so she wasn’t complaining.

Once strong men with a penchant for violence were now lulled to sleep by a chemical.

She couldn’t help but wonder if Tom would even care that she left. Probably, she thought, just not for the reasons he should.

But he was in the past now.

She didn't know what the future held, but a few things were certain; she was done being a side character in her own story and Tom Keen was no longer in it.

When she made it out of the campsite, she cautiously took one step at a time, avoiding leaves and sticks. It felt like an eternity but she knew, in this case, the slower the better.

When she felt that there was enough distance she quickened her pace, resisting the urge to bolt onward. 

She kept walking for a few minutes refusing to look back, focused on the path ahead.

When she decided that there was enough space between them, she glanced back.

The normally large fire that lit the community was but a small fleck in the distance. It looked tiny, minuscule with all the land and trees separating them. Not threatening at all.

She kept moving taking her first deep breath of the journey, the air even felt cleaner.

She exhaled. Excitement began to creep into her bones.

Elizabeth Keen felt free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope to continue this story. I’m just not sure how the Apocalypse/Zombie AU will go over. Also, I'm more of a reader than a writer, please forgive my mistakes.
> 
> Happy Halloween! 
> 
> (¬º-°)¬


	2. Alone

The sun was setting. Liz had walked continuously for almost 24 hours. Soon her body would have to rest, she dreaded this part. To stop her momentum scared the hell out of her, even though she knew it was required.

Paranoia crept into her exhausted mind. She Imagined Tom following her, full of anger and betrayal. She wondered what he’d do to her if he did find her. Would he force her to return? What would he do if she refused?

If that wasn’t bad enough, she could practically feel the eyes of other groups watching, waiting until she fell asleep to attack. And she could almost hear all of the zombies stumbling towards her, hungry, and determined.

Trying her best to banish these toxic thoughts, she sat her pack down and took a few sips out of her canteen.

The water was going to last her longer than she expected, she had the cool air to thank for that. She decided against opening a protein bar, thinking it would be better to fuel when she was rested.

She examined the area. She needed to be extremely cautious. The better the hiding spot the more likely it was already occupied. Caves or any rocky area were foolish places to even consider, she would be better off lying where she stood.

Thankfully the trees where she now found herself were substantial, solid. The kind you could wrap your arms around and your fingers couldn’t touch, with branches larger than her thigh.

Sure the idea had its downsides; she would be a sitting duck. If someone or _something_ spotted her, she wouldn’t be able to react quick enough to relocate. They could shoot at her or just wait her out.

On the plus side, she would be off of the ground. Most animals wouldn't be able to make it that high, and certainly no zombie. She would also have the height advantage and hopefully anyone that could find her wouldn’t be used to checking in the trees.

She decided it was the safest option for her over exerted body and mind.

Finding the perfect tree was easy. It had almost picked her. It was in an area dense with flora. With dark emerald leaves that virtually hid the large branches. It was perfect.

She made her way to the tree, made sure her pack was fastened tight, and started to climb.

It was challenging. Her boots kept slipping and she didn’t want to waste any more energy than necessary.

She took off her jacket, wrapped it around the tree and tried hoisting herself up. It worked better than before but her boots couldn’t gain enough traction. She sat on the ground removed both boots and socks and placed them in her pack. Saying a silent prayer that she wouldn’t hurt her feet, she wrapped her jacket around the tree again and began to climb.

She made it all the way to her chosen branch, grabbed on tight with her right arm, and draped her jacket over the branch with her left. She had just enough strength to bring her body over and straddle the limb. Thankfully it was strong enough to hold her.

Breathing heavily, Liz began to take inventory. Her toes were raw but no blood. Her arms ached but she wasn’t in any real pain. She chuckled silently, not believing what she had just accomplished.

She was no more than 20 to 25 feet high, but looking at the ground, it felt higher.

Getting down would be the fun part. She decided not to worry about that until morning.

She wrapped her jacket underneath the limb, brought it up on both sides of her, and tied it around her legs. This would hopefully keep her from falling off in her sleep. At the very least it should slow her down.

She leaned forward, hugged the branch, and closed her eyes.

Sleep came instantly.

\-----

She woke with a jolt. Her neck hurt and she was pretty sure that the bark had scratched the side of her face.

It was dark, but there were tale tell signs that the sun was about to rise.

She wasn’t quite well rested, but her mind felt clear, and her body felt strong.

She opened her pack and took out a protein bar. It tasted of artificial peanut butter and bitter chocolate. She inhaled the whole thing.

Climbing down was frightening.

She maneuvered her jacket back around the tree, carefully stuck both boots downward and began to slide down the tree.

Her descent was quicker than expected, dangerously so. If the ground hadn’t have been soft, she would have been lucky to not injure herself.

Her inner forearms were skinned, nothing serious, just minor cuts that burned, and her kneecaps felt bruised.

She had required the sleep and she didn’t regret it, but she probably wouldn’t be doing that again.

She was lucky that both her jacket and boots were made of dependable materials. The jacket was scratched up a bit and the color wasn’t as deep of a black but it was still intact, and the boots just had scuff marks. She was very fortunate indeed.

She stretched her limbs and continued.

\----

Days went by just like the first; walk until she couldn’t, wake before she should. It was taking its toll. Her feet were blistered and her calves tightened more and more with each step.

By what she thought was the tenth day she was completely out of both food and water.

She had rationed smartly but the more you expel the more you have to intake. Her hunger and thirst became undeniable.

Finding water was relatively easy. At first she tried to find animal prints in the dirt, in hopes that they would lead her to a water source. That was a dead end. The ground wasn’t completely dry, but it would take something heavier than most indigenous wildlife to move the mud.

Her next idea was to find a rocky area. It took a few hours and she headed more north than she would have liked, but she was rewarded by her efforts.

In the rock crevices she found enough water to completely fill her canteen.

Sitting on the rocks she took a moment to enjoy the cool liquid and admire the view.

Withstanding the temptation to chug it all, she closed the canteen, packed it away, and moved on to the next task at hand, nourishment.

She contemplated trying to catch wild life. However, constructing a trap would take too long and it was already past midday. She hadn’t come across any berries, nuts, or other foods that looked so easy to find in popular culture.

She hadn’t come across a place to fish.

The only option she could think of was to try and find mushrooms. If she was fortunate, some that were not poisonous.

She searched for decaying trees, stumps or fallen logs. Anything dead meant fungus, her stomach growled. She couldn’t believe how delicious that sounded.

She had to head even further off of her intended path, but soon she found a tree that was propped up against another. Fallen awhile ago, it appeared soft.

When she approached it she saw it, a troop of beautiful puffball mushrooms. She knew that they were edible from experience.

She had eaten one as a kid. She nearly gave Sam a heart attack. He rushed her to the ER, begging every medical personnel that walked by for help.

Everything was obviously fine in the end. The doctor looked at the mushroom Sam brought and told him that she would be fine. Her father was such a worrier. She smiled at the memory.

Plucking one from the ground she began to eat. It was hard and tasted like dirt.

When she had her fill, she packed up the remaining few and continued on.

\---

She saw him for the first time a few days later. He was setting something up by some bushes, she assumed a trap.

He worked quickly, expertly. She was mesmerized by his movements, swift, agile. It was obvious that he knew what he was doing.

She was horrified but at the same time curious. This was the first person she’d come across on her own. Was he dangerous?

Her stomach growled, the mushrooms long gone, her canteen had maybe a swig left.

She wondered what he had caught.

Then she had a idea. An idiotic flawed thought, but hunger was a relentless bitch. She had already lost a considerable amount of weight and she didn’t have much she could afford to lose to begin with.

She planned to steal from him.

She decided that yes, she would risk her life for a snack.

\---

 She stayed where she was for hours, waiting for a poor undeserving animal to make its way into the trap. She was amazed that he caught anything. She had been looking all over for signs of wildlife, never seeing anything, but the occasional bird.

Then it happened, a squirrel ran straight into the trap.

She wished that it was something larger. She abhorred the thought, but she needed sustenance. She quickly got over the cruelness of it. She no longer had a choice.

She and her trusty pocket knife were ready.

Liz made it all the way to the trap. She should have been more vigilant, more aware of her surroundings. Her fingers grazed the opening when she heard deep, booming voice.

"If you forgive the fox for stealing your chickens, he or perhaps, she will take your sheep."

She spun around before she could decide against it, took three large steps, and brought her pocket knife to his neck.

The action shocked them both.

Her speed took him completely off guard, something that almost never happens.

He was as concerned as much as he was impressed. It had been a long while since he had faced a real challenge of any kind.

Zombies were easy as long as they weren’t in large groups. All it took was a simple blow to the head and the threat ceased.

The whole zombie thing had gotten old fast.

However people, were quite the opposite. People were unpredictable.

He had seen a thing or two since this version of hell began. He lost his family. And he could tell you from experience that no zombie is, or could ever be more terrifying than that.

Maybe he had grown numb overtime. Once you've been through it all, what's left? He was shattered, broken into a million pieces, scattered all over the expansive dirt.

This woman that just stormed into his life had already given him more of a thrill than he had had in years. Not saying that he was thrilled to be in such a precarious position but it was at least different.

She on the other hand, looked at the blade poking into his neck and saw a small bead of blood gather at the tip and roll down his neck.

She became queasy and threw it down immediately.

This wasn’t who she was. She was not a murderer. She would never harm someone over food. Her hands shook and sweat dripped from her brow. She couldn't take her eyes off of the fallen weapon with red on its point.

She began to get visions of a family begging for their lives as Tom killed them for their food. She could see his eyes piercing with a hint of glee as they took their last breaths. And she could see the smug expression on his face as he heroically brought her his prize.

She shivered.

"Look, Miss..." he waited for a response that never came.

His eyes raked over her body. Her jeans were ripped and dirt covered her. Her stance was hunched and weary. Before he even made it to her face he could tell that she had been through a lot. She was shaking, and he knew it wasn't from the cold.

He then studied her face, noticing her cracked lips, sunken cheeks, and dark rings under her eyes. Even so, she was stunning. Her blue eyes reminded him of the ocean and her pale skin glowed in the sunlight.

It had been a while since he had been around another person. Let alone a beautiful woman. He had almost forgotten how to react. He didn't want to scare her off but he knew his eyes betrayed him. Trying his best to seem oblivious to her beauty, he spoke again "Miss are you ok?"

His head wanted her gone, screamed for her to leave. Bad things happened to people these days. Everyone was better on their own. This way you had to focus on yourself, no one to worry about, no one to stab you in the back, no one to _lose_.

Plus he didn't know anything about her. She could be bait working for a larger group. She could follow him to his camp, kill him, and take everything he owned.

His head kept screaming 'WARNING WARNING!'

But his heart reacted much differently. How could he leave her like this hungry, in shock, and alone?

Raymond Reddington was not a cruel man. Yes, he had done unspeakable things. Things that he hoped he would take to his grave. He was unworthy yes, but he wasn't evil. At least he hoped not.

Her eyes remained fixated on the blade.

"I normally avoid people like the plague" he chuckled at his faux pas "but if you'd like to join me" he looked into the trap "it looks like I'll be feasting on squirrel."

He began to really worry about her. Her eyes were as wide as saucers and her skin hadn’t regained any color.

All of his prior experiences told him to leave her. She was a liability. He'd have to feed and protect her. And if history repeated its self he knew that he wouldn't be able to survive it.

He didn't know who she was or what she had been through, hell he didn't even know her name. But he did know he couldn't leave her.

Not like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back in action! 
> 
> Chapters will be coming regularly. I hope you enjoy :)


	3. Conversations

He led her to his camp. It wasn’t much but in his defense he hated being immobile.

The safer the spot the longer he would stay, three nights being his absolute maximum. Tomorrow he would pack up and find a new place to camp. No particular place in mind, just for the sake of moving.

She followed behind him at a much slower pace. Her head hung low and her feet were dragging across the hard ground.

No thoughts of fear or warning hit her until they made a turn. Then she realized what she had just done. She had followed a stranger into  _his_ territory. She had dropped and abandoned her only weapon, and to be perfectly honest she didn’t think she could find her way back.

She cursed under her breath. This had been a bad start for her. She had already seemed to make all the amateur mistakes. She chastised herself for not watching more horror movies with Tom. Maybe then she’d be better equipped to handle herself in these situations.

Regardless, she now found herself at a strange mans camp, in the zombie apocalypse, with no weapon, and no backup plan. Way to go Liz!

He turned to her when he stopped hearing her footfall.

The woman was afraid, that much he could tell. Her eyes were frantically searching for a way out, or maybe a way to defend herself.

He put his hands up in surrender “Look, I’m not going to make you follow me. We can go our separate ways right now and I promise I won’t protest or follow. But I do hope that you can trust me. I have a fire, plenty of water, and supper” he said looking at the squirrel attached to his belt buckle.

So wrapped up in her own thoughts she didn’t realize that she had stopped moving. She couldn’t help but jump in alarm when she heard his voice.

His words were kind and sincere. She hated to sound naive but she did trust him. It probably didn’t help that she was extremely hungry. In that moment she would be tempted to follow anyone.

She couldn’t find her voice and instead shook her head yes. They continued on. Damn her for being so weak.

When they reached his campsite she was a little, unimpressed. Sure it was better than what she had managed, but it still wasn’t near the community she left.

It was only a small fire, with a military style backpack propped under a tree, and a stack of sticks for the fire.

She wasn’t sure what she expected, but she was grateful nonetheless.

“Please make yourself at home. I’m going to prepare dinner.” He took a tool out from his pack, walked a few feet away, and hid his actions behind a tree.

Squirrels were on the high end of the cute animal spectrum. She needed to eat something and he didn’t want to repel her.

His wife refused to eat any animals for the first few weeks. In her defense it did seem like the more endearing the woodland creature, the easier they were to catch. When she did finally give in she cried the whole meal.

He was used to hardheaded people. He didn’t want to risk it. He hoped to make it easier for them both.

He started cleaning the food. He did everything slower than normal so that she would have more time to acclimatize.

He at least wanted to make sure that she calmed down. 

First time was shame on him. He was distracted and surprised. He technically snuck up on her.

Second time, well he just hoped it wouldn't come to that.

\---

She sat down in front of the fire. The warmth radiating felt heavenly. She stretched out her aching legs and removed her gloves. She stuck her hands out letting them get warm.

This was nice.

She had ample opportunity to start a fire before, but she was always too afraid. Fire attracts unwanted attention and all she had to defend herself was a small knife.

Her thoughts drifted back to the man. It dawned on her that she didn’t even get his name, another ‘F’ on her survival report card.

He truly seemed worried about her, and she liked to believe that after almost a decade of studying the human mind, she could read him accurately.

When she was young her father used to lie to her about little things. When she was six she bought him a tie for his birthday. It was purple with pink polka dots. She loved it, but when he opened the box the look in his eyes changed ever so slightly. She just  _knew_ that he hated it.

It wasn’t until she was ten that she called him out on it. Her dog Webber had run away from home. Sam looked for him all night and when he came home the next morning he told her that ‘some nice family probably found him and was probably feeding him as we speak’.

She had that same feeling again, the feeling of knowing that it wasn’t true. She accused him of lying and ran to her room. He found her moments later and confessed that Webber had been hit by a car and had passed away.

Sometimes it wasn’t a fun skill at all.

In college, and some of high school, she could tell which boys actually liked her, and which ones that just wanted to sleep with her. It made it hard to hide the disgust she felt.

She could tell when friends were lying about wanting to hangout. She could tell when professors or employers were annoyed with her questioning.

Sometimes, she thought, its better not knowing.

Her secret was in the eyes. If they were truly the window to the soul, then she could see into everyone’s. The subtle change in the dilation of a pupil, or the slight squint of an eyelid spoke volumes to her.

There was of course one exception, and what an embarrassing anomaly it was, her ex-husband Tom Keen.

Maybe it was the pressure for a woman in her late twenties to get married. Maybe it was his boyish charm, or possibly the fact that he was so good with children. Maybe it was because he was kind to her, when so many others just wanted a one night stand. Whatever the case, she fell for him hard.

They had a lot in common. They trained for marathons together. They read books and cooked new recipes. He loved to learn almost as much as she did. They were for all extents and purposes perfect for each other.

She was positive that if everything was normal, they would have lived a long and happy life together.

Under stress he became a monster, he certainly wasn’t born that way.

This made her wonder about the man in the fedora who spared her life. She had a knife to his neck and he didn’t even try to harm her.

She wondered what he had gone through to make him this forgiving.

She looked into his eyes before she dropped her weapon. His eyes were green, and in them held a storm. She saw the pain and turmoil behind them. At first the intensity frightened her but the more she studied the more she saw compassion and kindness, the very traits that stopped him from harming her. The very reason he offered her food and a place to rest.

She wasn’t so blinded by his kindness to ignore the rage that was lurking. She wouldn’t make the same mistake twice, but she felt safe enough to let her guard down, at least until she was fed and could thank him properly.

Now the emotions she had been purposefully ignoring seeped through the cracks. She had about murdered someone. It came natural and that frightened her. She had put enough pressure on his neck to draw blood. She didn’t even check on him after.

She didn’t want to become a monster. She didn’t want to be like Tom.

A few tears escaped without her permission.

\---

Despite his slower movements it only took him two or three minutes to complete the task. When he made his move to return he saw her deep in thought and decided to let her have a moment longer.

He took off his fedora and rubbed the initials embroidered on the inside of the brim, an action that never failed to sooth him. Then he took out a handkerchief from his coat pocket and wiped his still bleeding wound.

He chuckled. What a day this has turned into.

He turned to her and noticed a wet shine on her cheeks. He decided to try and distracted her from whatever was causing her sorrow.

“We are in luck. It seems that this fella enjoyed a good meal.”

He impaled it with a stick and propped it up over the fire. He then took a seat across from her.

“I’m Raymond Reddington.”

She lifted her head, wiped the tears off her cheeks, and responded in a voice laced with fake confidence “I’m Elizabeth Ke…Scott. Thank you for your hospitality Raymond.”

“It’s my pleasure Elizabeth. Dinner should be ready in fifteen minutes or so.” He lightly scratched the side of his face with his index finger. “I will admit that squirrel isn’t the most appetizing meat, but my oh my is it delicious.”

“I really shouldn’t eat your food. You worked hard for it and you don’t owe me anything.”

“Nonsense. I’ve been using that old trap for years. I catch and eat plenty” he patted his stomach dramatically.

While he was focused on turning the food so it cooked evenly she allowed herself to study him. If she had to guess she’d say he was in his mid to late forties. His hair was short and brown. He had a slight five o’ clock shadow, which she could tell bothered him by his inattentive scratching.

His clothes were baggy. She didn’t know if it was from weight loss, or they were random articles he picked up along the way. After all they were a mish mash of pieces, from a fedora on his head to tactile boots on his feet. In between were dark blue jeans, a black button up shirt, and a black jacket that looked more expensive than the prior.

He was fit. You couldn’t tell much by looking at him in all of his layers, but when he moved you could see the strength and grace.

“Here you are” he said placing the now cooked food beside of her.

She blushed slightly in embarrassment. Even though the sun was setting she was sure he noticed her intense stare studying him up and down.

If he did, he didn’t show it. She was once again grateful.

“Thank you.”

“No problem. I’m going to retrieve the trap before it gets too dark. Will you be ok?” He got up quickly and started walking.

She nodded looking down at her food realizing that he had given her the whole thing.

“Raymond…”

He picked up the pace ignoring her call.

She waited a few minutes trying not to give in to the enticing smell, but she began to notice an annoying certainty; hunger always ended up winning.

She picked it up and took a small experimental bite. It was a little chewy, and tasted exactly how she remembered chicken tasting. It was heavenly. It was the first freshly cooked meal she had had in months.

She tried to pace herself, honestly she did, but before she could stop it was all gone. She was overcome with guilt. First she tried to steal from him, then she tried to kill him, and now she ate all of his food.

She refused to be a parasite.

Conveniently, he showed up right after she finished. If she didn’t know any better she would say that he left just so she wouldn’t try and share it.

He dropped the trap by his other gear, and pulled a dark blue tarp out of his backpack. He unfolded it, and used the back of a machete to hammer it into two aligning trees, creating a roof.

“We have about an hour of daylight left. Then we will have to put out the fire. You can sleep under the tarp. I’ll keep watch.” He said all while studying the sky.

“No way! I am not going to sleep while you work all night. I feel shitty enough. Thank you for everything. I’ll be on my way.” She moved to stand, her sore legs shook and almost gave out from under her.

“No, please. Look I don’t expect for you to understand this, I’m not sure I do myself, but helping you today has helped me. This time of year is…hard for me.” He smiled softly “Get a goodnights sleep and then, when it’s light, I won’t stop you. If you left now I’d be too worried to get any sleep anyhow, so really you would be doing me a favor.”

She sat down slowly, trying her best to make it look natural and not strained. “Maybe we could share duties then. Why don’t we split the night in two?  You could take first watch, and then wake me so you can sleep.”

There was a change in his eyes. Most people wouldn’t have noticed but she did. It was shock. He was shocked that she’d offer.

When was the last time someone helped, or showed him kindness?

He didn’t agree or disagree.

He moved to his pack, pulled a bottle out and handed it to her. “Here you go drink all you need.”

She took the offering and lightly sipped. She closed the lid and passed it back.

He shook his head knowingly “There’s no way you even partially quenched your thirst. Drink. There is a small stream nearby. I can refill in the morning.”

She chugged about half, wiped her mouth and looked at him. “Are you alone?”

The question took him by complete surprise. He supposed that her shock was wearing off, she was feeling safer and more self-possessed. It was an obvious question to ask nowadays. Nevertheless, the abrupt change in topic brought up unwanted memories.

“Yes.” His eye twitched and he worked his jaw.

It hurt her to see his response. She could see the levels of pain bleed through his dilapidated defenses.

Studying people was her specialty and before she had more insight behind the man, she couldn’t allow herself to sleep under his watch.  As much as she didn’t want to press him, she felt that she had to for her own well-being.

She was also legitimately curious. She thought everyone had a group, that that was how people survived. She had been a loner for around two weeks and look at where she was. How did one person do it?

“How long have you been on your own?”

He busied himself by clearing the place under the tarp, making sure that it was free from all debris. He even took extra care picking up small rocks until the area was bare. Then he started piling leaves in lieu of a mattress.

“It has been almost two years now.”

She was used to his voice almost becoming another person. It was loud and demanded a presence.

The voice that she just heard was neither powerful nor commanding. It was rough and raw with emotion.

She was slightly ashamed of herself for asking. Once again she felt that she owed him.

“I probably shouldn’t tell you this…” she knew that she shouldn’t divulge too much information, but she needed for him to trust her. She didn’t fully understand why, but she needed him to. “…but I was with this group not too long ago. My husband...” her voice cracked.

He faced her abruptly, straight faced and serious “You don’t have to…”

“No its ok. I think I need to process it. I also think you need to know that I’m not a worthless damsel in distress. I was…” she searched for the word “sheltered.”

She curled her legs in and wrapped her arms around them. She watched the fire dance as she slightly rocked back and forth.

“I was with my husband since the beginning. Tom felt that it was his job to protect me, as any good partner should, but he didn’t educate me. It’s been three years and I’ve never even started a fire. It wasn’t his intention, at least, not at the start. “

He sat down beside her, close but not invading her space, and slightly leaned towards her to show interest.

“Soon it became clear that he was…evolving. He lost all that he was. The worst part is that I think he used me to justify it.”

She looked at him with a sad smile “Tom hurt people to bring  _me_ food. Without _me_ he wouldn’t ha…”

“You can’t think like that. Tom…” the name leaving a bad taste in his mouth “became who Tom was going to become. It had absolutely nothing to do with you. In trying times people change. I believe that we all have. Some people aren’t equipped to adapt, and some people lose themselves along the way. You and only you can decide who and what you are.”

He could no longer face her. He stood and wiped the dirt off his backside.

Her voice regained all confidence “I left him. I got up one morning and I left.”

He admired her. He didn’t ask for an explanation, he didn’t need one. He wanted to help her, it didn’t matter what happened in the past. He didn’t think that she was weak or that she was a ‘damsel in distress’. And he most certainly didn’t judge her for needing help. It wasn’t easy.

He had witnessed peoples morals crumble to the ground. People did what they thought they had to, no matter what it meant for their souls. There were no limits. There were no consequences. There was no law and order.

He was proud of her for not taking the easy way out. For not staying with her abusive husband, even though it would guarantee that she always had a meal. It showed her true colors. She was a good person.

“I am so sorry about your neck. Has it stopped bleeding?”

He turned to see her face full of concern  _for him._

“It’s just a scratch.” He didn’t like seeing her worried. He didn’t deserve her sympathy.

She stood up, walked over to him, and inspected it.

“It’s still bleeding. It’ll probably leave a scar.” She turned away looking pale again.

He looked at her with an amused expression “Well, I consider it a lesson learned.” He used his hands to over emphasize “I will  _never_  sneak up on you again.”

They both erupted in laughter.

A hard breath-stealing laugh, which strained their chests, and hurt their heads.

She didn’t know if it was because a weight was lifted off of her shoulders, or because she felt her defenses drop, but she laughed so hard she cried.

It, in a way, freed her.

Once their laughter subsided, he took off his jacket, folded it several times, and placed it under the tarp, on top of the leaves.

He had made her a pillow.

“It’s too cold Raymond, you need your jacket.”

She moved to retrieve it and hand it back.

“Sleeping on the ground is dreadful enough. You at least need a place to rest your head.” He got his machete and moved beyond the immediate area “I’m going to do a quick perimeter search and then I’ll put out the fire.”

She moved under the cover and laid her head on his jacket. It smelt like the outdoors, and slight perspiration, but there was also an underlying fragrance that she couldn’t quite name. It was a warm scent that eased her mind. She couldn’t help but to inhale deeply and snuggle into it.

“Sleep well Elizabeth.”

“Goodnight Raymond.”


	4. Injury

She woke to the gentle patter of rain fall hitting the tarp. The sun had barely started lighting up the cloudy sky and the smell of petrichor flooded her nostrils.

She stretched out like a cat waking up from a long nap.

It took a second to escape her foggy-minded state. She was in the woods, under a dark blue roof, leaves crinkled underneath her, and her pillow was damp with drool. Wait…shit!

She sat up quickly, and started soaking up the drool that covered his expensive jacket with her inexpensive shirt sleeve. She was able to absorb most of the moisture, but if you looked closely you could see the darker outline.

Suddenly she heard a noise that was not too far away. It was timed, and repetitive.

She was so full of panic and embarrassment upon waking she didn’t even notice that Raymond was nowhere to be seen.

She stood slowly and walked over to the stick pile. She grabbed the largest one she could find, and made her way stealthily over to investigate the sound.

Her heart rate was flying. She almost couldn’t hear anything over the loud thumping.

She heard him grunt and ran in the direction.

She came to an abrupt stop when she saw Raymond on the ground. And as soon as he was on the ground, he was back up, and then in the air.

She did a double take. At first thinking that something paranormal was happening, and then, when the realization hit her she couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

 _He was doing burpees_.

Her laughter ceased his movements. He looked up at her from a push-up position before slowly standing.

“Elizabeth you have  _got_  to stop sneaking up on me” He said with humor on his face, but seriousness in his eyes.

“I am sorry, but I couldn’t find you, and I heard a strange sound” she bit her bottom lip to keep the laughter from escaping.

He unrolled his sleeves and buttoned them down “Laugh all you want, but staying in shape is important.”

“You do this every morning?”

“Yes” he picked up his machete, and started making his way back to camp.

“Wait, what else do you do? Do you have some sort of routine?”

As humorous as it was to her it was also highly logical. She added it to her mental list of survival tips.

He turned back to her searching for sincerity and finding it. “Well I keep a very simplistic routine; push-ups, sit-ups, and then burpees.” He tilted his head and squinted his eyes “You know, they say that burpees are the ultimate full body workout. Spartan Racers swear by them. I must admit that at first I thought it was absolute baloney. But after awhile I started noticing changes in my agility.”

She looked at him skeptically “Every morning? What if you don’t have food? How do you find the…energy?”

“Oh, I always have food, and  _plenty_  of energy.” He berated himself. He knew that he was flirting, but couldn’t quite contain it. In his defense it was his personality. He was just thankful he hadn’t winked at her.

He started walking towards camp, taking large full strides.

This time she followed.

It seemed like every question he answered gave her more questions to ask. She didn’t want to annoy him. He was being gracious, and she felt that she probably had already inadvertently insulted him.

He pulled more items out of his Mary Poppins like bag. It was a can and a can opener.

He opened the can and passed it to her “Breakfast is served.”

She instinctively took it without question.

Their fingers accidentally came in contact. He looked at her while she seemed unfazed, all of her attentions still on the can.

She unconsciously licked her lips. It was a can of sliced peaches. She brought the can up to her nose, smelled it, and sighed.

The scent took her all the way back to her childhood home. Her father was in the kitchen making peach cobbler for their Fourth of July get together. Friends and neighbors would come over for a cookout and firework show.

It was always her favorite time of year.

When it came time for dessert, she’d always be the first one in line, begging her dad for a larger scoop. He always gave into her large pleading eyes.

She would then hurry to the porch, so that she could get the comfortable ‘laid-back’ chair, and prepare for the fireworks.

She always finished the cobbler before they ever started, much like how she always finished her popcorn before a movie started. She was always too eager; at least that’s what her father told her.

\---

Seeing her inhale the fruity fragrance, and cherish each and every little bite, stirred something inside of him.

Something that he hadn’t felt in a while and it upset him. She was innocently enjoying her breakfast and he was...feeling inappropriate…things.

He backed away silently so he wouldn’t interrupt her pleasure.

He went back to his designated ‘work out’ area and continued his routine. Only this time he doubled the intensity, going faster and doing additional repetitions.

His arms were on fire and despite the chilly temperature he was sweating.

He continued until his arms collapsed out from under him, and his legs burned almost painfully.

Taking a few minutes he caught his breath, slowly got up on his weakened strained legs, and returned to her.

She had just finished the slices and was now sipping on the leftover juice.

“Oh my god Raymond, thank you for this. When I was a child peaches were one of my favorite foods.”

He winced slightly at the use of his name “I’m glad you enjoyed. How did you sleep?”

She beamed “It was the best sleep I’ve had since I was back in DC.”

“Wow, it truly is a small world.”

“You lived in DC?”

“Well, I worked in DC. I lived just outside of the city. My wife…”

His face fell as he was transported to a different time. A happier time that was stolen from him.

It took her breath away.

She had the sudden urge to comfort him. She knew that it wouldn’t be appropriate so she decided against it, but the compulsion was still there.

“Well, Raymond I cannot thank you enough for everything. You saved my life and I shall always be grateful.” She said trying her best to change topics.

He scattered the ashes from the fire, packed up the tarp, buried all the trash, and then kicked around dirt covering most of their foot prints.

“We don’t want to leave a trail” he said while putting on his damp jacket.

“Could I maybe follow you to the stream? I would love to fill up my canteen.” She held the canteen upside down to stress its emptiness.

“Yes. Ok.” His mind was still elsewhere.

\---

They walked for twenty minutes and made comfortable small talk, mostly comments about the weather and their favorite desserts. Hers being cobbler, his being anything with chocolate; which then brought up a lively debate on what the best types of chocolates were. She swore that milk chocolate was the best while he fought passionately for dark.

By the end of the light hearted argument they both regretted bringing it up. They couldn’t remember the last time they had eaten chocolate, and now the cravings were present.

When she finally heard the running water she jogged ahead.

It was a slow moving stream. She could almost hear her father’s voice arguing with her that it was called a creek.

Acting on impulse she sat on a large rock and started unlacing her boots.

“What on earth are you doing?” he said looking at her quizzically.

“I’m just going to soak my feet” she obviously replied.

He chuckled and shook his head “Next time you always need to check your surroundings before you can relax, ok?”

Her face fell. She was angry with herself. She  _knew_  these things. It was common sense, so why was she struggling so?

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I just wanted to give you advice for next time. Your safety is of the upmost importance.”

She smiled at him. He didn’t truly understand how she was feeling, but she was thankful for his concern.

How could he understand?

It was frustrating to have degree in Psychology that was utterly useless. She spent years studying. She wrote hundreds of stress inducing papers that caused insomnia and seclusion. All for what?

It infuriated her.

She removed her boots, and then dipped her toes into the water “Crap!”

The water was cold, but after the sharp shock of the icy water it relieved some of the achiness. She was tempted to jump in and soak her whole body. If she wasn’t worried about hypothermia or pneumonia she would have.

Instead she settled on rolling her pant legs and splashing the water up on her caves. Then she did the same with forearms, neck, and face.

He was hypnotized.

He was sure that it would take a bulldozer to move him from this spot.

He stared at a rock close to her, and watched her out of his peripheral. This way, in his mind, it wasn’t invading her privacy…

Then a feeling of anxiety overtook him, he needed to get away from her. It had been less than 24 hours and he already grown fond of her.

And getting close to people was a weakness.

You let someone in, you get use to them, you develop routines and a sense normalcy, and then just like that they’re gone.

You’re left alone.

You’re left to suffer.

He couldn’t go through that again, and he didn’t want that for her.

He snapped out of it when he heard her canteen shut.

“Try and boil that before you drink it. It’s safer that way” There was absolutely no joy in his voice.

“Ok.” She appeared apprehensive.

She opened her mouth and shut it like there was a question on the tip of her tongue that she couldn’t quite get the nerve to ask.

“You will be fine Elizabeth. You are very intelligent. Just be careful…please” he took a few steps and then turned around “Oh, and for the love of god don’t sneak up on anyone.” He smiled and tipped his fedora.

“I won’t” she laughed almost sadly.

And just like that, she was alone again.

\---

She waited a few minutes for her legs, and feet to dry before she replaced her boots.

She packed her canteen, and made sure she had everything adjusted properly.

She sat her bag down so she could make sure that the clips were fastened when she saw it.

His machete was on the ground, where he stood pretending not to watch her.

It had to have been a mistake, or surely he would have told her.

She picked it up, and spun around trying to remember the direction he headed.

She decided on a direction and sprinted after him.

\---

He had been angrily cursing himself for the past few minutes.

He let his guard down a record amount of times while she was with him. It wasn’t like him. He hated feeling vulnerable.

What made it even worse was he was still thinking about her while he was chastising himself for thinking about her.

He had been alone for too long. He was accustomed to it, but now she was in his thoughts. He craved her conversation and wit. He craved the cheerfulness she emitted.

That was the problem with receiving more, enough is never enough. Pretty soon he’d want things that were impossible to have in this day and age.

It made him discontented.

He needed to continue on, and get back to his regiment. He needed to forget about her.

He was so deep in his own thoughts that he wasn’t paying attention. A zombie snuck up behind him and pulled at his arm.

Raymond jumped forward falling down a small drop, landing hard, and twisting his ankle.

He grunted loudly and looked up. To his surprise there were four zombies slowly making their way to him.

He tried to put some weight on his injured foot but almost screamed out in pain. There was no way he could run.

Plan B: he reached back and grabbed at his pack desperately searching for his machete. It wasn’t there. He looked on the ground around his feet to see if maybe it had fallen, no such luck.

The zombies were closing in.

He looked around for anything sharp or maybe a rock. There was nothing of any use.

He used his upper body strength to pull himself up and out of the trench. When he tried locating the zombie’s whereabouts he realized that he was indeed in trouble.

It seemed that he had wandered right into a small herd. He now counted eight.

He squirmed his way forward trying his best to get away. He made it to a tree and hoisted himself up with his weak shaky arms, strongly regretting his intense work out from earlier.

Again he tested putting weight in his injured leg. He took a step and hit the ground. “DAMNIT” he hissed.

He stood quickly and hopped on one leg as fast as he could.

He could hear them approaching, stumbling and staggering, their bones crackling as they walked.

When he saw that they were coming from all directions he slowed down, he needed a plan, and at the moment he had none.

\---

She was moving as fast as she could. She prayed that she could find him.

Just when she had about lost hope she saw his fedora on the horizon. When she moved up the slightly elevated surface she saw that he was being followed. Before she could yell or warn him he fell.

Seeing him fall, seeing the zombie’s closing in, it frightened her so much that something snapped inside of her.

Her fist tightened around the weapon as she lunged forward at full speed.

It was like her mind had completely discarded any fears or anxieties she had ever had about the dead creatures.

They were going to attack and eat Raymond and she wasn’t going to allow that.

Not on her life.

She spotted him standing holding onto a tree.

He looked disoriented. She couldn’t help but notice he also looked injured. She silently prayed that he didn’t hit his head.

They were closing in around him, when without further delay she leapt forward, bringing the machete to the back of the head of the closest to him.

Blood splattered on her, she gasped but didn’t falter.

She removed the weapon from its head and moved to her next target.

Raymond stood there in absolute shock.

It was like she had been possessed by a swordswoman. The blade swung around, blood flying everywhere, bodies dropping all around him.

He was frozen.

\---

In truth she was almost having fun, in a totally sick disgusting way. She felt anger leave her body with each swing of her arm.

She no longer felt self-doubt. She was sure that she could do this. She was strong and she was brave, and these monsters were nothing.

There were a few mistakes. A few times she had failed to hit her target and one or two times she hadn’t swung hard enough, but for the most part she was deadly accurate.

When she had eliminated all of the threats, she stood tall and caught her breath.

Confidence was coursing through her veins. She had never considered herself an adrenaline junkie but maybe she was now. Maybe this was the new her.

She looked at him proudly. She saved his life and she felt amazing in doing so.

All the guilt she incorrectly placed on herself for eating his food, and sleeping when he kept watch, evaporated. She didn’t feel like she owed him anymore. In her mind, they were now on completely equal ground.

She went up to him “Are you ok?”

His eyes were huge and his mouth was agape.

“Raymond?”

His eyes returned to normal size and focused on her “My…my ankle.”

“Do you think you can put pressure on it?”

“No”

“Here” she propped herself underneath his armpit like a crutch, and firmly grasped the machete in her other hand.

She dared something to attack them.

\---

They made it to an area they both deemed clear.

She helped him sit down.He was visibly out of breath and in pain.

She hoped that nothing was broken. If it was, without medical care his leg would never be the same. The thought made her cringe.

“I’m going to check the area to make sure we aren’t ambushed.” The adrenaline had almost worn off, but she was still on edge.

When she returned not long after, he was lying on the ground, covering his face with both hands.

She assumed it was from pain, but it wasn’t.

She had just risked her life for him, and it disturbed him. It almost made him sick to his stomach.

He couldn’t stop thinking about what could have happened. His absentmindedness almost got her killed!

And she made it worse. She was looking at him with worry, but it was mixed with a little satisfaction.

She was pleased with herself.

He wanted to shake her to snap her out of it. She had almost gotten herself killed for him!

She began to take off his boot to inspect his ankle; her fingers gently touched the already swollen area. Tiny explosions of blues and purples were breaking out all over his skin.

It looked very painful.

He was too angry to feel anything.

“Stop me when it hurts” she flexed his foot slightly to see its range of motion.

She pointed and flexed his ankle a few times more with no response from him.

She started to worry that maybe he’d been bitten. Or maybe he had a worse injury that he was concealing from her.

“Hey, Raymond, talk to me please. Does this hurt?” she said while extending his foot.

He removed his hands and tilted his head up to look at her “You can never do that again.”

She let go of his foot misunderstanding the statement “I’m sorry, I...I thought I was helping. Did I hurt you?”

He stared at her intensely “I’m not talking about that.”

She furrowed her brows and matched his stare “You. You’re talking about you.” She shook her head in disbelief “Why can’t you just let me help you? Because you don’t feel deserving of it? I risked my life for you because you would have done the same for me. It was the right thing to do, and I care about what happens to you.”

He stayed unmoving “I’m serious. You can never do that again. Promise me.”

“You want me to promise you that I’ll never save your life?” She acted like she was considering it “Yeah, that’s never going to happen” her voice grew loud and was thick with frustrated sarcasm.

“Elizabeth please…”

“No. Absolutely not. You don’t get to do that to me. You don’t get to be my knight in shining armor and expect nothing in return. You don’t get to!”

She calmed herself before she put her hand on his foot, less gentle than before. “Now tell me does this hurt?”

Tears were threatening to fall from both sets of eyes, and when they met it was almost like looking in a mirror.

“A bit.”

She was still fuming “Oh and another thing, when someone does something nice for you, you’re supposed to say thank you.”

“Thank you” he said quickly without processing.

She smiled at him watery eyed and relived “You’re welcome”.

“But never do that again.”

The tears escaped her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all of the reviews and kudos! :)


	5. Learning

Their dynamic had changed.

In these past few weeks she began to feel…human again. She successfully left Tom, she provided for herself, she fought zombies, and she saved someone’s life. This was the new order, and she now felt like she was a part of it. It was good to feel significant. She spent much too long hiding from reality.

After they picked their place to camp, she made him a splint with some sticks and wrapped it with his sock. It wasn’t her best work but she wasn’t overly confident that his ankle wasn’t broken. He wasn’t very vocal about it, but it was obvious to her that he was trying to focus on other things.

It confused her and she wanted to confront him about it, but she also didn’t want to argue anymore. Why was he acting this way? If someone saved her life she’d be grateful. Instead he was acting like a child that didn’t get their way.

Now he was laid back with his arms crossed, and his ankle propped up on his backpack. He had been staring at his fedora which sat beside of him for the last hour, or however long they’d been there.

It occurred to her that he probably hadn’t slept in a while. She knew that he didn’t last night and he looked exhausted.

“Maybe you should try and get some rest. You need to let your body heal.” She moved the dirt with the machete making squiggly lines that ended up looking like the horoscope symbol for Aquarius. “I’ll keep watch.”

He slowly brought his red rimmed gaze to hers and resisted the urge to yell “I’m fine.”

She almost violently shook her head “No, you’re really not.”

He snarled at her. She could tell that he was biting his tongue. She wasn’t scared of him, and most certainly wasn’t going to back down. In this case it was nonnegotiable, and he knew that.

“Looks like you’re going to be stuck with me until you can walk, so you could at least make it easier for the both of us. Rest” she demanded. It came out harsher than she intended but he didn’t seem to mind.

They stared intensely, like two dogs trying to find out which was dominate, and which was submissive.

He sighed loud and dramatic, and reluctantly placed his fedora on top of his face.

She smiled to herself, she had won the battle but she wasn’t too sure about the war.

\---

When he awoke it was still daylight. The sun had moved quite a bit, letting him know that it had been a few hours.

He felt snug which was unusual. He looked down and there laid her jacket, spread out and tucked under him slightly almost like she attempted to tuck him in.

He was angry that she kept choosing himself over her, she needed her jacket it was cold, but he couldn’t help the smile that took over his face. She didn’t owe him, and he couldn’t understand why she would treat a stranger with such care. She should have left with the weapon he had forgotten, and continued with her own journey. That was what people did now. People have to look out for themselves.

He knew that he should be thankful, but it was difficult. He was embarrassed that he had made so many mistakes. He was usually so good at this. It wasn’t like him. Surviving had become his mission, his hobby, his life. It proved how fast another person can mess up your formula and bring danger.

This was why he needed away from her. She offered great companionship, but with that came obstacles. He had been yearning for something to break his routine, but at the same time it scared the hell out of him.

He looked around to thank her. He’d been a jerk he knew, but he wouldn’t apologize for the way he felt. He would tell her _to_ _not do that again_ every day of the week if he had to.

“Thank you…”

He didn’t see her. Panic spread throughout his body as he tossed and turned every way to try and find her.

The machete was gone and his heart sank. He was terrified.

He removed the makeshift splint, which was impressively well done for what little resources they had, and attempted to put on his boot. It was then that he noticed the sparks of pain shooting throughout his foot, it was swollen to a point that it wouldn’t fit.

He cursed as he rammed his ankle forcefully into the now ill fitting shoe.

He grabbed a rock to use as a weapon, and limped painfully to find her.

Wincing with every step, he made his way further from camp.

When he found her she was pacing like a wild animal. It looked like she had been circling camp for a while.

He knew that it was because she needed a way to burn off the extra adrenaline.

Even though it appeared that she had her guard up, he could tell that she wasn’t at all focused. Which was concerning because she held the weapon so firmly that her knuckles white. If someone snuck up on her…well they probably wouldn’t live to tell the tale.

“Elizabeth” he said in a calm soothing tone.

They were far enough away that his voice didn’t carry.

“Elizabeth” he repeated with more volume.

“Raymond!” she jumped. “What are you doing up? Come on we need to get you off of your feet.”

She walked up to him purposefully and assisted him all the way back.

He was in a lot more pain than he’d ever admit, and he dreaded removing the boot, but the relief he felt when he saw her outweighed all of that.

He sat down, and she started working immediately. She never spoke a word, and never looked up at him.

“I am sorry if I made you feel angry Elizabeth.”

She continued working in sharp staccato movements. Nothing like how she worked before. She was straight to the point, not as gentle and caring as the first time.

“Elizabeth.”

She ignored him.

“Lizzy please.”

The new nickname caused her to stop her actions and look up.

He didn’t know where the name had come from it just slipped out naturally. He braced himself for whatever she was going to say. He prayed that he hadn’t offended her.

“You shouldn’t be walking, or standing, or shoving your swollen foot in a boot.”

He let out a breath of air he didn’t know he was holding in.

“This is really going to hurt Raymond. What on earth were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that you were hurt! _I was thinking that you needed me_. You can’t go running off whenever you feel like it. I was thinking that zombies came and ate you while I slept soundly” he worked his jaw “If we are stuck with each other we have to be able to communicate.”

“Ok.”

“Ok?” he was slightly shocked with how easy she agreed.

“I’m not sure how we are going to get this boot off.” Her focus now back on the shoe.

“Easy, you’re going to pull with all of your might and I’m going to try my best to sit still, and stay quiet.” He put his collar in his mouth in hopes that it would keep him silent.

“I’m not sure I can…”

He looked at her sending her the strength she needed, he closed his eyes and bit down on the collar.

Even though she loathed doing this she knew that it was the only way, and it had to be done. For him.

She grabbed a hold of the heel and toe of the boot and pulled. She used most of her strength and he was starting to make some noise of discomfort, but it wasn’t enough.

She took a deep breath, and pulled with all of her might. The boot slipped off landing her straight on her butt.

He saw stars for a few seconds. Not because of the pain, but because he had held his breath trying to stay quiet.

She saw his eyes roll back in his head. Hurrying to his side she put her hand on his shoulder and rubbed small circles trying her best to comfort him.

A few moments later he opened his eyes “How does it look doc?” he rasped.

She laughed breathlessly until she looked at his foot. It was a deep purple and had almost doubled in size.

“It doesn’t look good at all Raymond. You shouldn’t have gone after me, I would have been right back. You shouldn’t have moved.”

She was blaming herself for reasons he didn’t understand. He was the one that fell and twisted his ankle. He was the one that foolishly stuffed his foot in a shoe. All she did was save his life. All she did was care for him.

“It’s getting a little chilly. How about we enjoy the warmth of a fire for a little while?”

She still had a sad look on her face. He hated it, and wished so much that he could make her happy.

“Lizzy. Let’s start a fire, ok?”

“I need to wrap your ankle first.”

“Let’s start with the fire first.”

“No I need to…”

“I need a moment…please” he pleaded as sweat dripped from his brow.

He was in more discomfort than she originally thought. She decided to give him some time to rest but not too much. She was worried that if left neglected it wouldn’t heal properly. He could lose it, or worst-case scenario, he could die. She’d be damned if that happened on her watch.

The fire was a great distraction for them both. It allowed them to focus on something else, giving him time to rest and her time to learn.

The realization hit her suddenly; he had listened to her last night. He knew that by being sheltered she had missed out on learning basic skills, and that she yearned to be educated. He was using it to prolong the inevitable, but he also wanted to help her.

She looked at him with a newly found determination “Alright. Show me how.”

Using the machete, a flint, and some dry leaves he taught her how to start a fire. It didn’t take long at all. She learned to use hard gray rocks, and that tree moss was also a great kindling.

It took four strokes of the machete and she had started her first fire.

“I can’t believe how easy that was.” She refrained from acting as excited as she felt.

He smiled and nodded.

She warmed her hands and stoked the fire for a moment or two, then knew it was time to work on him. “Alright, let’s take care of your leg.”

“I am feeling a bit peckish, maybe we should find dinner first.”

“Oh no, not this time. I’ll be fast. I promise.”

She re-splinted his leg, although she was fairly certain that it wasn’t broken. After all he was able to put some weight on it, but she still did it out of caution. Then she wrapped it up with his jacket, and propped it on top of his pack to keep it elevated.

Through the whole process he wasn’t a happy camper, but thankfully he mostly kept silent.

When she was done she added some sticks to the fire. It had grown large enough to emit enough heat for the both of them.

A few minutes later she heard a loud growling noise.

He laughed but she looked at him concerned.

“When was the last time you’ve eaten?”

“It hasn’t been too long.”

“Seriously. I’m not kidding.”

“Just a day or two.”

She looked at him skeptically, crossing her arms, and tightening her mouth.

“What?”

“You’re lying to me.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I can tell. It’s kind of my thing.”

He tilted his head in interest. “Elizabeth are you telling me that you have superpowers?”

She smiled and shook her head “No nothing like that. Well, maybe a little bit. When I was younger I would always catch my dad’s white lies. I always knew when my friends were lying, and I could always tell when someone wanted something… _more_ from me.” She raised her eyebrow with the last statement.

He did his best to seem like her comment didn’t affect him, but he knew that was her not so subtle way of calling him out. She didn’t seem disgusted or repulsed by him; she was just letting him know that his looks and innocent flirting hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“As a matter of fact I was about to become a criminal profiler for the FBI.” She chuckled dryly.

“What’s so funny?”

“Everything seemed to be finally happening for me, the husband, the house, the dream job all of it. And then the damn zombie apocalypse happens.” Her voice became shakier “You work hard and expect to get what you deserve. Now it doesn’t matter at all. All of those years studying and busting my butt, all for nothing.”

“I wouldn’t say it was all for naught. Truth be told, those skills of yours are probably more useful now. You’ll know when to trust people. You’ll know who’s dangerous. You may use it more selfishly now, but it’s still an excellent skill to possess."

“Yeah well this ‘skill’ won’t catch us food.”

“You have to stop thinking that way. It’s toxic. You didn’t know how to start a fire ten minutes ago and now you do. You are bright and you are an excellent pupil. Soon you’ll know all of my tips and tricks, and you’ll be able to survive on your own with no trouble. You just have to be patient with yourself.”

Instead of berating her, he was encouraging her, and frankly that meant a lot. She appreciated his bluntness. She has always been too hard on herself. It was just her nature. It was going to take time but she was in agreement with him.

He shifted to grab the trap and grunted. She passed it to him, and he showed her how it worked. Then he told her to pick a spot close but not too close, and to make sure it wasn’t overly obvious to the human eye.

She came back and sat down by the fire “How long do you think it’ll take?”

“Sometimes it takes hours, sometimes days.”

They stopped conversing, the sound of the crackling fire and their own inner monologues keeping them silent.

She wanted to ask about his past, but she didn’t want to take him to a dark place. Today had been taxing on them both and he was still frustrated with her, she could tell.

All she really knew about him was that he worked in DC and had a wife that something tragic happened to.

He knew almost everything about her.

She had a feeling that his past was much more haunted than hers, so for now she wouldn’t press. She hoped that he’d open up on his own, with time.

He sat rubbing his fedora. It was a habit she had picked up on earlier. He seemed to do it while he was deep in thought or agitated. It calmed him and brought him peace. She couldn’t help but wonder, what was the back story there?

She smothered the fire as the sun set. They decided that they would risk it, and both would try to get some sleep.

She laid down close enough to hear his breathing. She opened her mouth to ask a question but then stopped herself. She looked up at the stars as her eyelids became heavier and heavier.

As of now he would remain an enigma.


	6. Together

Three days later they were on the move.

As soon as he could comfortably fit his foot back into his boot he wouldn’t take  _no_  for an answer. She practically begged him to take a few more days, but he wouldn’t have it. So they had come to an agreement that they’d travel with each other until his limp was no more, or at least until he could move faster.

Now they were slowly making their way through a much denser part of the forest. It made her feel uneasy. Every time they passed a large tree she half expected something to jump out at her.

It was hazy and the air smelled of snow. Raymond told her that if it did snow it wouldn’t be so terrible. Zombies slowed down in the cold. If the temperature dropped too low their muscles and ligaments would freeze making them completely immobile.

She shivered at the thought. If the zombies got cold enough to freeze wouldn’t they?

In the attempt to keep the cold at bay she envisioned the ocean. She pictured herself lying in the sun on a big comfy towel that was covered in colorful hibiscus, sipping a Piña colada, and listening to the sounds of the waves. She wondered what Raymond would be like at the beach. Would he be the type that swam in the ocean, played games, and built sandcastles, or would he sit and read and relax. If she had to guess she would probably say that he was a mixture of both, but he was unpredictable.

He glanced at her from his peripheral. She wore a huge grin that left him curious.

“Ok I have to know, what on earth are you thinking about?”

They stopped walking as she turned to him “I’m thinking about the beach.”

He raised his eyebrow in intrigue. “The beach?”

“Yes. It’s actually where I was headed before I…I _ran_ into you.” she laughed at her phrasing. She hadn’t really run into him at all.

They continued forward.

“What made you think of the beach?”

“It’s freezing out here. How could you even ask me that?” She laughed again as a big air cloud of condensation proved her point.

They walked in silence for a bit before he spoke again “The beach.” He took a long pause “I haven’t thought of the beach in ages. We used to always spend our summer vacation out on the ocean front. It was by far my favorite time of the year.”

She slightly winced when he mentioned the past, worried that she stirred up something to ruin his mood. “Maybe you could come with me?”

“Lizzy…”

“Raymond it’s just the beach. I’m not asking anything from you. We both love and miss it, so I was just thinking that maybe we could go together.”

He slowed down the pace of the conversation down by taking the time to choose his words carefully “I don’t think...”

“Is that a house?” she interrupted pointing to a cabin that had seen better days. It was built on an uneven surface causing the roof to slant and droop. It was almost disguised in overgrown moss and weeds. The windows were damaged and cracked, and the door hung loose on its hinges.

“Wait here.” Raymond moved forward with the machete.

She grabbed a hold of his arm and pulled him back “What are you going to do?”

He looked down at her hand that had a death grip hold on his arm “There will hopefully be something worth scavenging in there, although, by the looks of it I am doubtful. Regardless we can’t pass up these opportunities.”

She didn’t let go “Sure we can.”

He smiled as he gently pried her away “It will be fine. Stay here and don’t come in unless I tell you to.”

“I’m going with you.”

“We only have one weapon. You stay.” his tone was more demanding than necessary which filled him with instant regret. He changed his tone and begged “Please.”

The seriousness in his eyes convinced her that this was best. He knew what he was doing and she should just trust him, but she couldn’t help but to be worried for his safety.

He made his way slowly to the door, looked back, and gave her a nod that suggested he would be fine. The door wobbled and creaked loudly as he slowly opened it. If anything was in the house it would be attracted to the sound. He took a cautious step forward as his eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room. He checked every corner of the cabin without finding an active threat.

He exited the cabin unscathed and waved her over “The coast is clear.”

She followed him inside. The ceiling was lower than she expected, and despite the cracks and holes in the exterior it still smelled of must. The entire cabin was about the size of an average master bedroom and with both of them in it, it felt small. There was a full bed that had a single red blanket on it, a table and chair that sat on a brown rug, and an old dirty fireplace. She looked around the room thinking that three years ago this old shack would have been completely worthless to her.

A faint scratching noise disrupted her thoughts. The sound repeated again and again.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Shhh” she located the area in which it was its loudest. Looking all around she realized that the sound was coming from beneath them. She moved the table and chair and peeled back the rug. There was a latch and an outline of a door. The place had a cellar.

She opened it and without hesitation she started to climb down.

She disappeared into the floor before he could stop her. He leapt towards the opening and looked down. It was pitch black except for her pale skin that was still illuminated by the daylight. She made it to the bottom safely.

He knew that by the time he and his injured leg made it down there it might be too late so he passed down the machete and hoped that nothing was down there.

She grabbed a hold of the weapon and squinted into the darkness of the small space. The scratching had stopped only to be replaced by a low moan, and the lethargic sound of a foot dragging on the ground.

The sound got closer and closer as Liz backed up into the ladder. The zombie came into the light. It was a newly infected female. Its skin had only just started to decay. Liz could tell by its wrapped hand that it was bitten, and someone had probably trapped it in the cellar.

The zombie’s movements were slower than normal. Especially for a new zombie that hadn’t had time for muscle atrophy to occur. Liz decided that it was probably from the cold like Raymond had told her about.

The zombie kept creeping closer and Liz was running out of time. Too much closer and she wouldn’t be able to swing the weapon back. So she took a deep breath and swung as hard as she could at the zombies head. She hit her target, but because of the freezing temperatures its brain was harder than usual, and the machete didn’t go deep enough to kill it.

She pulled hard trying to remove the machete. The zombie clawed at her trying its hardest to break skin, but thankfully Liz had enough clothes on that it was ineffective.

In the background she could hear Raymond yelling things, but she couldn’t make out his words. Everything was muted and in slow-motion.

She removed the weapon and swung again this time successfully killing it. It fell hard to the ground with the weapon still stuck in its head.

All that she was aware of was the loud thumping in her ears. Her hands shook as she tried to calm herself down. She could tell that he was trying to get her attention. He was worried and nervous and probably hadn’t seen all of what happened. But she needed just a minute.

She had never been so frightened in her life. Saving him from the zombies was nothing. She had no fear only determination but this, this had affected her.

She looked up and he was holding his hand out to her, anguish written all over his features. She climbed a few steps and as soon as his hand held hers he pulled her up with one strong heave.

She adjusted to the bright room as his hands searched her frantically. He pulled up her sleeves and checked her neck. Once satisfied that she wasn’t bitten he enveloped her into his warm embrace.

The warmth and security she felt overwhelmed her. She thought that she would cry from the contact but he pulled away before she did, not releasing her arms “Are you ok?”

She nodded not being able to utter a single syllable. He hugged her again, this time quicker, more for him than for her. He turned and started to descend into the cellar.

She wanted to tell him to stop, she wanted to grab him and bury herself back into his hug. They were both safe there. Not in the cold dark cellar.

He made his way down slowly out of caution, but also because he felt a twinge in his injured leg. He knew that he shouldn’t be doing this, but didn’t want her to have to be alone down there again. He made it to the bottom and found the deceased zombie. He pulled the machete free and looked around. It was a once well-stocked cellar judging by all of the shelves and crates, but now there were only three cans of food left. He tucked the weapon in his pants, placed the cans in-between his arm and his chest, and began ascending the ladder.

“I wish we would have risked our lives for something more impressive, but it’s better than nothing.” He said while he carried the three cans across the room and sat them on the table, two of beans one of corn.

He opened the only can of corn and she practically yanked it out of his hands. She looked at him apologetically “Sorry, I don’t really care for beans.”

He chuckled. “That’s alright I perfectly understand. In the Navy sometimes we’d live off of beans and peanut butter.” He shuddered “You would not believe the smells.”

She laughed loudly as she almost spat out her corn. He had a way of making her feel safe and happy. She wasn’t fully over what had happened but she felt a lot better. She wiped her mouth and couldn’t help but to question “The Navy?”

“Yes.” For the first time in a long time he felt comfortable enough to share. “I was in the Navy for twelve years. I did well, and would have continued to be a sailor…you probably don’t want to hear about that.”

“Honestly, I do.” She sat her can down, propped her face in her hands, and batted her eyelashes teasingly.

He chuckled.

“They were grooming me for Admiral.” He rolled his eyes “Everything was so political. I was good yes, but they liked me because I was a good speaker. They thought of me as a poster boy. Soon I was attending meetings instead of saving lives and making a difference. I despised it.”

He shifted on his feet “I resigned not long after. I worked as head of security for a business, and then I was offered a job in Washington. It was stressful but high paying. My wife…” he cleared his throat “she just wanted me to be happy, but I had a family to support. I had a daughter that was growing and enjoying more activities. I wanted her to be able to pursue them.”

He shook his head unable to continue.

“Tom and I wanted a child. My father got sick when we decided to start trying. So we stopped. I needed to spend time with him before…before he passed.”

“I’m so sorry.” He touched her shoulder and she put her hand on his.

“It’s ok. I miss him like hell, but in a strange morbid way, I’m glad he wasn’t forced to live in this world.” She flinched at her own words hoping that she hadn’t offended him. After all he had lost his wife and child. She knew that it wasn’t quite the same.

A deep dark part of him agreed with her. He would give anything to have his family back, but he knew that the ones that were left were the ones that suffered. His family was resting in peace, they were safe.

Once again the silence took over. It was comfortable, neither having anything to add, and both realizing that silence was sometimes bliss. That was the great thing about them, they could talk and tell stories but both knew when to quit. A lot of people didn’t, there is hardly ever a need for forced conversations.

They both shared the contents of the cans and packed up to leave. He opened the door only to find that it had started snowing. The ground had more white than brown, and snowflakes were falling fast enough to obstruct his vision.

He frowned at the sight. Zombies weren’t as big of a threat in the cold that was true, but hypothermia, frostbite, and phenomena were. He didn’t want to worry her about those possibilities because she was already anxious enough. She didn’t need to worry about freezing to death.

Last winter he learned that movement was a lifesaver, literally. He walked until he became too cold to. The heat from the physical exertion worked better than most would think, however, it wasn’t sustainable. He couldn’t walk forever. So then he regretfully had to kill a buck to supply him with a second layer of warmth.

He noticed that she was starring at the falling snow face full of concerned and doubt.

“Maybe we should stay here until the snow dies down.”

Her face lit up as relief flooded her features “Do you think it’s safe?”

“If the snow keeps falling heavy we should be fine. It’s a challenge to see anything out there.”

He shut the door and propped the only chair up under the knob, acting as a lock.

She jumped onto the bed. The springs sounded loud and rusty, while particles flew up in a cloud of dust.  She coughed as she fanned the air.

This was a time that he longed to be back at home. He would wake up in the morning, have a cup of coffee, and turn on the morning news. What he wouldn’t give for a seven day forecast right now.

He hoped that they wouldn’t be here for a prolonged amount of time, but he had absolutely no clue how long they’d be ‘trapped’. It was hidden well enough for no one to find it, but he didn’t like the uncertainty of it. His rule was to scavenge as long as it was unclaimed, and get the heck out of dodge.

“I’m going to look around to make sure nothing was attracted to the sounds of our earlier escapades. It shouldn’t take long.” He opened the door and left.

She hated not having a say so. Why did he get to make sure that they were safe while she was left waiting on a semi-comfy bed for his return?  She supposed that if there was only one weapon then only one person should go, but she still didn’t like it. She needed a weapon and they needed to talk about this. He couldn’t keep leaving her like this. It wasn’t safe for either of them.

She looked around trying to find something of use. The most dangerous of her findings were plastic utensils and candlesticks. She wished so badly that the people that once lived here were into samurai culture.

The last place she checked was under the mattress. With one swoop of her arm she checked one side of the mattress, finding nothing. She checked the other side only to hit something solid. She pulled the object out. It was a hunting knife. It was only four or five inches, but it was heavy. It had a brown handle and a sharp point. It looked clean she assumed that it had never been used. Judging by the zombie in the cellar she was probably right.

When he returned he was covered in snow and shivering. He shook the snow off of his jacket and stomped the snow off of his boots.

“Did you see anything?”

“No, nothing in the immediate area.” He took off his fedora “We are presented with an interesting choice. Do we make camp here for an unprecedented amount of time, or do we try our luck out there in the freezing temperatures? I know I said that we could stay before, but I just want to make sure we don’t get ourselves in trouble.”

“It seems to me that this place isn’t on many people’s radar. Someone would have taken everything or chosen to live here if it were a hot-spot don’t you think?”

“Yes but if we stumbled upon it, anyone could.”

She could tell by how negative he was being that he was hurting. Too much too soon on his injured ankle, and she bet that the cold didn’t help.

“Here, why don’t you lie on the bed.” She got up and walked to the opposite side of the room.

When she turned to him he wore a familiar shocked expression that broke her a little inside.

“I’m partial to the floor.” He got down on all fours and laid down in front of the fireplace.

She almost wanted to kick him, _almost_. This man was absolutely ridiculous. She no longer needed a hero, she needed a friend.

“Why are you like this?”

He squinted at her in confusion.

“I’m trying to be nice and helpful. I’m trying to gain your respect and trust. Why won’t you let me just help?” She moved her hair out of her face as she began pacing.

“I do trust and respect you. Do you really think we’d still be traveling together if I didn’t?” He sat up “I am not used to sharing responsibilities; I do things on my own and have so for awhile now. Your company has been more than pleasant, I very much enjoy being around you, but this won’t last. I don’t want to get accustomed to fleeting things.”

“Oh so I’m a ‘fleeting’ thing to you?” She crossed her arms and her face reddened in anger.

He slowly stood up “You are not a _thing_ to me Elizabeth. You are a strong and amazing person. You have overcome so much. I simply meant that this cabin isn’t permanent. This bed isn’t permanent. We aren’t permanent.” He took a slow deep breath knowing that he should stop but a whisper crept out “I can’t lose anymore.”

She was mad, but his confession left her breathless. She understood and didn’t at the same time. She made her way to the bed and covered herself up with the red blanket. She then turned to her side so that her back was facing him. It wasn’t about being cold or mean to him. It was about her not saying anything she’d regret. It was about her thinking, and deciding what was best for her. He had a way of pushing her buttons and she wasn’t quite sure why. If he wanted to sleep on the floor then she was more than happy to let him.

Using the excuse that he didn’t want to get used to a bed was idiotic. Everything he said was true, but what he was really afraid of was missing her. That’s why he always offered to be the one to leave. He needed time away from her, time to catch his breath and remember what it was like to only have his thoughts. That’s what was so messed up about it, he wanted her gone but selfishly needed her to stay. She was working her way into him, and she seemed completely oblivious to it.

“Lizzy…”

She turned slightly towards his voice.

“If the offer is still on the table, I’d like very much to go to the beach with you.”

She buried her smile in her pillow, and stalled a bit to make him nervous “Together it is then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the love and support. It means the world! :)
> 
> *this chapter is un-betaed as of now (she's on vacation and I don't want to bother her). Sorry for the mistakes*


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